


the things that had measure

by somehowunbroken



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Break Up, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 03:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9104419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somehowunbroken/pseuds/somehowunbroken
Summary: It doesn't end with a bang or a whimper. Looking back, Jo isn't sure if it actually ever ended at all. It's just that one day, he realises it's over, and he has to figure out where to go from there.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hockeycaptains](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hockeycaptains/gifts).



> hi hi hi hockeycaptains! i knew the second i saw your prompt list that i had to write you treatfic. this, uh. this might be an object lesson in why it's never okay to tell me things don't have to have happy endings. merry christmas?
> 
> thanks to the beta team. y'all are the best, even if you're all cursing my name after reading this. <3
> 
> title is from levi kreis' "[left over](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zcZjawVv480)," which is a painful, gorgeous song:  
>  _so i guess i'm the one left over_  
>  _'cause we don't resemble who we were before_  
>  _i guess once that ship has pulled out of that harbor_  
>  _the things that had measure_  
>  _don't measure up anymore_
> 
> i highly rec giving the song a listen.
> 
> **a warning before you read this:** it doesn't have what we'd call a happy ending. it's also very disjointed, which is on purpose. it's more... snapshots, i suppose, than it is a cohesive narrative.

"We're gonna stay together," Nate promises as they hug it out at the airport. They had the same flight from Newark to Pearson, but they have different connections out. "Like, distance? What's that? It's just Denver to Tampa Bay. No big deal."

"Duh," Jo replies, rolling his eyes as hard as he can. Nate snickers as he tucks his face into the crook of Jo's neck. "When you win the Memorial Cup together, you stay together."

"Those are just the rules," Nate says. He's clearly trying not to smile, but Jo bets he's failing. Sure enough, when Nate finally takes a step back, he's got a grin plastered across his face. "Skype me later?"

"Sure, yeah," Jo says, not reaching out for Nate. It takes effort, more than he thought it would, but he stays rooted where he is as Nate smiles even wider before turning and walking away.

They're going to be fine, Jo reminds himself firmly. _Fine_.

-0-

Training camp for the Lightning is more tiring than playing half a season with Halifax, Jo thinks as he stretches. Everything is sore everywhere, and all at the same time. It's the good kind of sore, the _you worked hard today_ kind, but he'd seriously consider killing a man for some Advil and a few hours to lay in bed and whine at the ceiling. Instead, he's got about 45 minutes before he's due at some sort of team bonding event.

It's good, though; "come to this team thing tonight" sounds a lot like "we're gonna keep you up, kid," so Jo can take a really hot shower and then grin and bear it for a while. He's trying to decide what, exactly, to wear to a team barbecue at the captain's house when his phone rings.

"Nate," Jo says, putting him on speaker and tossing his phone to the bed, surveying his options. "How fancy is a team barbecue?"

Nate snorts. "It's a barbecue," he says. "Wear your nice jeans and a tee without stains on it, and you'll be fine."

"Shoes?" Jo asks, reaching for his jeans and a polo. Nate doesn't have to know.

"Sneakers," Nate decides. "Shorts, you can get away with sandals. Wear sneakers with the jeans."

"Yeah, good," Jo replies. "Thanks, Nathan. How's camp going?"

Jo changes as Nate launches into a story, and really, Jo gets Nate's fascination with Landeskog, but he could stand to hear the guy's name a little less often. It's not that Jo is insecure about their relationship, but it's still bizarre to hear Nate talk so much and so affectionately about someone else. He doesn't want to be _that_ kind of long-distance, though, so he swallows hard as Nate winds down. "Sounds fun," he says, going for light. "Hey, I'm on my way out to this barbecue. Talk to you later?"

"I'm gonna hit Gabe up for some Thai," Nate says. "Have fun, babe. Love you."

Jo doesn't clench his teeth at all as he replies and they hang up.

He doesn't.

-0-

Jo calls his mother from the airport while he's waiting for his flight back to Halifax, and she makes all the right consoling noises about how the Lightning are making a mistake, how he'll prove it back in Halifax, and perhaps Nathan will be back, and wouldn't it be great to play with him again?

Except Nate won't be back in Halifax. Jo knows it as well as he knows that the plane he's about to get on is going to take him back there. He stares at his phone as he sits in the waiting area, thinking about what to say, how to tell Nate that he's being sent back while Nate has moved on to bigger and better things.

In the end, he puts his phone into airplane mode and tucks it into his bag. He'll deal with it later.

-0-

"I'm sorry," Jo blurts out. He's a little surprised Nate picked up, honestly; he's maybe been a bit of an asshole since he got the news that he was being sent back down. Nate had texted, then called, then called Jo's mom, and this is the first time Jo's been able to think about talking to Nate, superstar rookie Nate, without wanting to tear his own hair out.

"Oh, so you're talking to me now?" Nate asks, fake shock overwhelming in his voice. "Wow. I'm so honored, Jonathan. It's been almost a month."

Jo winces. "I'm sorry," he repeats. "I'm a dick."

"I'm just…" Nate sighs, and Jo can close his eyes and picture Nate slumping back against the wall behind his bed. "I thought that was part of the deal, you know? For better and for worse, or whatever they say. We're supposed to help each other through the shitty things."

"Sorry," Jo says. He's been miserable the entire time he's been back in Halifax; it hasn't been long, but he's pulled something in his groin and some of his teammates have been weird. It's probably a reaction to Jo's own attitude, but everything kind of sucks, and he knows that putting off talking to Nate has only made it worse. "I should have called."

"Yeah," Nate says. "I wanted to talk to you, make sure you were doing okay. Instead, I'm getting snaps of your sad face from Fuchs, and they're making _me_ sad, and you're not answering your phone."

Jo bites the inside of his cheek herd. "Look, it's not…" he starts, but he can't figure out how to end that sentence without lying. It sort of is that he doesn't want to talk about it; it sort of is that he specifically doesn't want to talk to _Nate_ about it. "It's just been shitty, and I'm sorry I've made it worse," he finally says.

"Talk to me," Nate says, almost begging. "Tell me what I can do to help you, Jo. Want me to trash talk your GM? I can do that."

It makes Jo laugh a little, surprised more than anything. "You're gonna trash talk Steve Yzerman? You once said his dangles were, I quote, 'boners on ice.'"

"I stand by that, but I can still trash talk him," Nate says confidently. "I like you way more than I like his dangles."

"Tell me more," Jo says, smiling and finally relaxing a little.

-0-

It doesn't get easier, and it doesn't get easier, and it doesn't get easier. Jo stays in Halifax and puts up a good but not stellar season; Nate wins the Calder, and Jo tries not to burn up with jealousy. He tells himself it's a good thing, probably; Nate got to play for it this year, but that just means that Jo won't have to compete with him for a shot at it next year. 

Nate comes home beaming, overflowing with the joy of it, and Jo can't help but be happy for him. It's a lot of conflicting emotions, that's for sure, but he swallows everything down and gives Nate a hug.

"It's so good to see you," Nate says, smiling at him. "You're taller, eh? You didn't mention that."

Jo snorts. "You still can't grow a beard."

Nate affects a wounded look. "I give you a compliment, and that's how you repay me?"

"And you're surprised," Jo shoots back. Nate absolutely beams at him.

"So," he says, leaning in excitedly. "Guess what? You'll never guess, but guess anyway."

"Wow, this game sounds terrible," Jo says. "You… finally figured out how to do your own taxes."

Nate makes a face. "Uh, definitely not."

"Bought a cookbook?"

"You're the worst," Nate says, laughing and shoving Jo in the shoulder. "No, man. _Sidney Crosby_ asked me if I wanted to train with him this summer."

"Whoa," Jo says, eyes going a little wide. He can't help it; it's _Sidney Crosby_. "That's amazing."

"I know, right?" Nate says excitedly. "His schedule is, like, insane. He sent me a copy of it with a warning." He laughs again. "As if I wouldn't cancel everything else I had planned this summer for the chance to train with him, no matter what."

Jo keeps his face blank, doesn't react at all, but Nate's expression goes guilty a second later anyway. "Not you, Jo. I wouldn't cancel on you."

"It's Sidney Crosby," Jo forces out, pasting on a smile. "I'd cancel on you for him, too."

Nate smiles softly and throws his arm over Jo's shoulder, pressing a kiss to his temple. He's always been able to tell when Jo's feeding him a line. "Let's get sushi," he says. "My treat."

It's not like Jo's going to turn that down.

-0-

Jo's going to make the Lightning this year come hell or high water. Nate spends more time training with Crosby than he does with Jo, so Jo funnels his frustration into getting as fit as possible. It pays off; he has a great camp and a good preseason, and he's confident in his ability to make the opening night roster right up until he breaks his thumb.

_gonna punch something im so mad_ , he texts Nate as soon as he gets back to the hotel. He's trying to be better about communication.

It takes Nate two days to text him back: _sux babe :(:(:(:(:( maybe dont punch nething tho? ur hand is already a mess_

Jo's flipping through channels, but he pauses to stare at the message. He'd been kind of an ass about everything last year, and he gets that Nate is probably still a little hurt over that, but with two days of radio silence after an injury, he'd expected… a little more, maybe. At least a "sorry I didn't get back to you right away" or something.

_i wont_ , he eventually sends back, then tosses his phone to the bed.

When he checks it later, there's a smiley face and a thumbs-up and nothing else. Jo spends too long trying to figure out if there's some sort of extra meaning in the thumbs-up after he's broken his thumb, but really, the extra meaning he keeps coming back to is in the fact that there's nothing else from Nate.

He puts the phone upside-down in the sheets and turns up HGTV.

-0-

They play each other for the first time in January; Nate texts him a few days before, and Jo picks a place for them to meet. He's not sure why he's nervous until he gets to the arena and walks to the players' lounge, but when he enters and finds Nate on the sofa with Tyson Barrie sprawled across his lap, he figures it out.

"Nathan," Jo says, gripping at calm with both hands.

Barrie bounces up and crosses the room in half a second; he's a little shorter than Jo, which Jo tries hard not to be happy about. "Hi!" he says, giving Jo a smile that seems to be made of way too much sunshine. "I'm Tyson. Nate said he was meeting up with you before the game, so I tagged along to meet Nate's juniors soulmate."

Jo pulls in a deep breath and doesn't flinch outwardly like he is on the inside. "Nice to meet you," he says, giving Barrie a brief smile. "I don't want to ditch you or anything, but could I have a minute with Nate?"

"Sure thing," Barrie says, bouncing back. He spins and waves at Nate, then leaves the room. Jo watches him go, wondering if he's normally that energetic, or if this is special for Jo.

"Hey," Nate says. He's still on the sofa, and he pats the space beside him.

"I'll stand," Jo says. He takes a step backwards, leaning against the wall.

Nate's face falls. "It's just Tyson. He's my friend, Jo."

"I thought," Jo starts, then takes a deep breath. "Are we even still together, Nathan?"

"What?" Nate's up off the sofa and standing in front of Jo in a flash. He doesn't reach out; at least he remembers that much, Jo thinks bitterly. He doesn't like being touched when he's upset, and especially not when he's upset with Nate. "Of course we are. Aren't we?"

Jo motions to the door, hoping that Barrie isn't the type of person who would eavesdrop. "I haven't seen you since the summer, and you bring someone else along. The last text I have before you asking to meet today was you wishing me a happy new year. The last time we Skyped was in November, and you spent twenty minutes telling me about how great everything in Denver is, and you weren't interested in… doing anything." He can feel his ears burning, but he pushes on. "What am I supposed to think?"

"I love you," Nate says, hurt. This time he does reach out, and Jo doesn't move when Nate's hand lands on his elbow. "Jo."

"What am I supposed to think?" Jo repeats, and Nate pulls him into a crushing hug.

Jo closes his eyes and hugs back.

-0-

Jo doesn't win the Calder. He doesn't get nominated; he doesn't end up getting a single vote. He's surprisingly not bitter about it; he knows exactly how his season was, and when he looks at the top three, he can be honest with himself about how he didn't measure up.

It's fine. It means he has more to work for next year.

_sux :(:(:(:(:(_ , Nate texts him. He's been better about keeping in touch since their mini-meltdown in January, but it's the same message that Jo gets from half of their former Halifax teammates and a bunch of current Bolts besides. He stares at it for a long time, but it's not worth getting upset over. Things are still a little fragile, if Jo's being honest with himself, and he's not sure how to fix it.

He's not sure if he should, either.

-0-

The thing is this: Jo loves Nate, and he knows that Nate loves him.

The other thing is this: he's not sure if that's enough anymore.

-0-

It sucks, being in and out of the lineup. It sucks a lot, and no matter what he hears from the coaches and his teammates and his agent, he can only be patient for so long. He's not built to sit on the sidelines; he's built to play, and that's all he wants to do.

There's a moment in the middle of November, scratched yet again and bored and more lonely than he wants to admit, when he picks up his phone and calls Nate. He doesn't answer; he's at practice, probably, or doing a team thing, or hanging out with Barrie or Landeskog. They're Nate's people now, and Jo can't hate him for finding friends in his new home. He really, really can't; he gave it a solid try, but even if it hurts him, he can't be upset that Nate's happy in Denver.

He remembers back to Nate's first year, to how upset he'd been at Nate moving on. He gets it now, kind of. It's not that he loves Nate any less, but it's… not the same as it was, maybe. Jo's not a different person than he was in Halifax, and he doubts that Nate is, either. It's just that they're both _more_ now, experience and development and everything else that life has thrown at them even as it's pulled them apart.

Jo's not sure that who they are now can have the kind of relationship they'd had before.

-0-

He's got a lot of time to think about… everything, really. He's sent to the Crunch, and then he goes home, and Jo contemplates everything from his relationship with Nate to his place on his team all the way down to whether or not the new deli in his hometown is worth visiting.

Nate talks to the media. Of course they ask him about Jo; it's not like it's a secret that they're close, that they were close. Nate says all the right things, says things to the reporters that he hasn't bothered saying to Jo, not over the phone or text or fucking Instagram comment. He texts Jo after, a simple _always in ur corner babe_ that Jo replies to with _thx_ , and that's it, that's all.

Jo skates and thinks and skates some more. He knows he has to do something; the problem is, he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to at all.

-0-

The circumstances suck but the way Jo slots back into the team is incredible. He doesn't lead them through the playoffs, nothing quite like that, but he's solid and he puts up numbers, and he makes his case very clearly: he was right with what he said before everything got ugly. He's good enough to be playing, and he's confident enough in his skills to take a stand.

_u were great_ , Nate says when the Bolts get knocked out. _lmk when ur back in ca. we should get together._

_ty will do_ , Jo sends back, and he wonders if Nate knows, if Nate's aware of what Jo's been considering. He wonders if he'll have the guts to do anything about it, once they're face to face again.

-0-

"We gotta train for the World Cup," is the first thing out of Nate's mouth when they manage to meet up halfway through July.

Jo blinks a little. "You usually train with Crosby."

"I will, some," Nate says, nodding. "But you and me, Jo, we should do some one-on-one training this summer. Nobody's taking this team seriously, but we really do have a shot."

He looks so determined, so angry that the players at the kids' table aren't being treated like actual contenders. Jo doesn't want to give in, doesn't want to get swept up in the tidal pull of Nate's righteous indignation, but he's right. Jo's seen the roster, seen the lineups they're going to be playing against. They have a chance.

"Okay," he says. Hockey always comes first; he can put aside his personal issues for now. "Let's kick their asses."

-0-

The World Cup is amazing, it's great, they play their asses off and show everyone just what a mistake they aren't.

They still lose.

Nate's crushed; he takes things personally, sometimes, and Jo's always been there to pull him back from blaming himself for losses that weren't on him. He's got other people for that now, though, and Jo knows that he has to say something about their relationship instead of falling into old habits. They have to talk now, before they leave and stop being in each other's orbit again.

"Nathan," Jo says quietly. "Stop beating yourself up."

"But," Nate starts.

"I will get someone else to beat you up if that's what you're looking for," Jo threatens, letting himself smile a tiny bit. "Lundqvist might want to, after everything you've put him through."

Nate smiles at him, more tired than he should be after a preseason tournament. "You always know what to say, huh?"

Jo sits carefully. His heart is racing more now than it had at any point during the tournament itself. "About that," he starts.

Nate sighs. "I'm not as ignorant as you think I am, Jo."

Jo looks up sharply. "I don't think you're ignorant."

"Blind, then," Nate says. "We're not… we haven't been really together anymore for a while now, and you're here to break it to me gently."

Nate is sharp and quick; he's dangerous on the ice because he's explosive and he's strong. He's endlessly sweet and has a soft spot for dogs that Jo has yet to see rivalled. Jo knows all of this and much, much more about Nate, but sometimes he forgets that Nate knows it about him, too.

"Well, now I don't have to," Jo says instead of saying any of that out loud. "I guess we just… grew up. Grew apart."

"I guess," Nate says, and there's the pang of hurt, flashing across Nate's face and echoing around in Jo's ribcage. 

-0-

They have similar flight times out of Toronto, to their own cities for their own training camps and their own now-officially-separate lives.

"Can we still be friends?" Nate asks, looking so earnestly at Jo that Jo doesn't know how to do anything but agree. He's always been bad at saying no to Nate.

"Sure, yeah, of course," he says, pasting a smile on his face.

Nate's expression breaks into a relieved grin. "Great, good. Okay."

Nate used to be able to tell when Jo was bullshitting him. It's just one more sign of how things have changed that he can't tell now, Jo thinks.

"I'll talk to you later," Jo says, hefting his bag over his shoulder and nodding down the hallway. "Flight, you know."

"Right," Nate says agreeably. "Safe flight. Skype me later?"

Jo waves instead of replying as he walks away.

He's got a flight to catch.

**Author's Note:**

> -WELP.
> 
> -there is a lot of very intentional repetition/phrase mirroring in here.
> 
> -at one point during the writing process, i told the beta team that i wrote a line, sat back, and said "wow, okay, chill, satan." the beta team's response was "THIS ENTIRE FIC WAS LIKE A SLOW DOWN SATAN THING." <3
> 
> -hockeycaptains, i dearly hope that the person who wrote your actualfic made you something lovely and happy and wonderful, and if not, uh. hit me up on tumblr, one free request pass, i'll write you a thing that doesn't make people swear in sadness. [after reveals, ofc, unless you have already guessed who wrote this! which is... possible.]


End file.
